


The Near Price of Pain

by antiquatedgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Magic, Obscurus, obscurials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antiquatedgirl/pseuds/antiquatedgirl
Summary: Hermione happens to be reading about Obscurials and comes to the realization that Harry could have so easily become one himself and starts having a panic attack. Ron attends to her as best he can.





	The Near Price of Pain

**Author's Note:**

> I do not understand how to indent my f*cking story so please excuse the terrible formatting!

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, Ron was baking something delicious in the kitchen that perfumed the house with the scents of yeast and vanilla making Hermione’s stomach grumble occasionally. She was reading a new book that had arrived a few days ago in the post, Persecution of Magical Folk in the Muggle World. Ron has questioned why she wanted to read depressing material like that but Hermione explained that having only found out about her magical background at eleven she often felt adrift when a casual mention of a well known piece of Wizard history escaped her. She had created a list back in Fifth year of magical works that Madam Pince, Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick, and Professor McGonagall had recommended to her to help her immerse herself in it. The war had interrupted all that and so she was even now only a quarter of the way through her list. 

The book was a bit depressing but also fascinating, it explained the lengths witches and wizards went through to keep magic a secret, what happened when those lengths failed, different methods that governments around the world used to keep their populations in line. She was almost done with the book, there was only one chapter left on Obscurusi and Obsucrials. Fascinated Hermione snuggled into her chair by the fire and continued reading. Horror slowly stole over her as she read, she thought of every instance of emotional abuse Harry had ever admitted too, she knew it wasn’t everything that had ever happened but she had for the most part let it go. Harry was attempting to reconnect with Dudley, even though Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had completely cut themselves off from their nephew. At some point she started shivering despite the waves of heat coming from the fire. She didn’t realize she was crying until drops of water appeared on the text in her hands. 

“Hermione would you taste this for me? Is it too sweet? I’m not sure I copied down the recipe correctly from Mum’s cookbook.”

Ron walked into the living room holding out a slice of something to Hermione when he saw her shaking with tears streaming down her face. He dropped the pastry and ran over to her grabbing her shoulders,

“What is it sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

Hermione couldn’t form the words to answer him, her breath came in short gasps and distantly she thought rationally that she was in danger of hyperventilating if she didn’t start breathing normally. Ron was looking frantically around the room and his eyes finally settled on the fireplace, he gripped her shoulders tighter and begged,

“Please tell me what’s wrong! Was there a floo call? Is someone injured? Is it Dad? Ginny? Harry? Hermione! Talk to me!”

Hermione managed to gasp out,“Take me to Harry, I need to see him!”

She didn’t think she would be able to Apparate without Splinching. Without question Ron gathered her into a tight hug with the book trapped between them, and Apparated to Harry and Ginny’s house out in the country. Harry happened to be working out in the yard raking leaves and Hermione let go of Ron and the book fell to the ground with a thump as she ran to Harry and threw her arms around him. Bewildered Harry tentatively patted her back, Hermione’s silent sobs broke free and she started to sob loudly as she gasped out,

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry. We didn’t know what could happen. We didn’t realize!”

Frightened now Harry glanced at Ron but he shrugged his shoulders just as clueless as him. Hermione turned in Harry’s arms and said to Ron,

“Obscurial!” 

All the blood drained out of Ron’s face leaving it starkly white and the freckles stand out even more than usual. Ron loped over and wrapped them both in his arms for several long minutes as Hermione’s sobs slowed down and her breathing evened out. When Ron let go of them Harry tried to shrug Hermione off too but she shook her head which was still buried against his chest so Harry held her gently and asked Ron,

“What’s going on? Is someone hurt?”

Ron shook his head and said quietly, “No mate, but you could have been.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I think Hermione better explain, she always does better than I do. Let’s go inside and get out of the cold okay?” 

Hermione dropped her arms from where they had been wrapped tightly around Harry’s ribs but she clung to his elbow instead. Ron gently tugged the two of them inside the house stating,

“Ginny at practice?”

“No a press conference actually.”

“Gotcha, here. Sit on the couch, I am gonna fetch her a nip of firewhiskey. In the same cupboard as usual?” 

Harry nodded and took Hermione’s freezing hands in his, he rubbed them vigorously and blew on them, trying to warm them. He was desperately confused but knew that clarity would be granted sooner or later. Ron returned with the bottle of firewhiskey and three glasses which he set on the coffee table and poured a few fingers into one before handing it to Hermione, she took it but her hands were shaking from the release of such strong emotion that Harry steady her hand with his own while she drank it in slow sips. She finished and handed it back to Ron, he took it again and poured a tiny bit more in before pouring some into the other two glasses, one of which he handed to Harry and one which he took for himself. They sat in comfortable silence for nearly an hour before Hermione shook herself and said quietly,

“I’ll explain everything, I promise. But can it wait a little longer? I’m starving.” 

“Of course it can sweetheart. Let’s make some dinner.”

Ron stood up from the couch and tugged Hermione up with him, and Harry followed them into the kitchen. Ron froze then, baking came fairly easy to Ron but cooking always left him at something of a loss and he turned to Harry with questioning eyes. Harry moved in front of Ron and opened the refrigerator assessing what was in stock. He pulled several things out and dumped them on the counter before arranging them in some sort of order. He turned and said,

“Ron why don’t you put on the radio, some fun music. I can never remember which are the stations we like. Hermione, come over here and chop these veggies for a salad. I’m going to make us a lasagna, it will feed all of us and Ginny when she gets back and I’ve got all the ingredients since we just did the shopping yesterday.”

Ron went and fiddle with the radio, finding a station that they all liked, a sense-memory of those long months in the tent flashed through him. It had often been like this, Harry cooking with Hermione helping and Ron fiddling with the radio. He consciously set that memory aside letting the otherwise happy moment take him over, they were all safe, amazingly, and they hadn’t had to steal food like they had sometimes had to do when they were hunting for Horcruxes. Harry was busy boiling the water, opening a jar of sauce, and chattering to Hermione. He saw an old Quidditch Weekly laying on the kitchen table and grabbed it to read as he leant against the counter, he found that if he tried to help in Gin and Harry’s tiny kitchen he often knocked things over or accidentally added sugar instead of salt or something else that inherently lead to laughter and ordering take away. 

Perhaps thirty minutes later when the kitchen was really starting to smell good and Ron’s stomach started growling he heard the faint crack of Apparation and then the front door banged open and he heard his sister’s voice call out,

“Harry? I’m home! Everything alright? Only you’ve left the leaves all in a pile and the rake outside.” 

He heard the clatter of her shoes being kicked off and then she appeared in the kitchen doorway. She grinned when she saw her brother and sister in law in the kitchen and enveloped her brother in a hug.

“Hello there! What’s all this?” 

“We’ll explain over dinner.” Hermione answered as she turned to kiss Ginny on the cheek.

“When will that be ready then? I’m famished!” 

“Very soon! Hi, sweetheart. How’d the press conference go?”

“It went great! The sports journalists are only interested in how we’re flying, whether we’ve been practicing new moves, who’s got the best broom, and what not. It’s such a nice change from the gossip columnists that are still fascinated with Harry.” 

“Sorry about that.” Harry said with a downturned face as he pulled the bubbling lasagna out of the oven, magic was so handy for speeding up dinner when people were hungry. Hermione set the salad on the table and quickly summoned plates out of the cabinet behind her. They all were soon seated around the table and Hermione passed the large salad around that she had prepared and Harry dished out large pieces of lasagna to everyone. After several minutes of everyone tucking into the wonderful food, Ginny looked at her brother and inquired,

“So why are you lot here? Not that it’s not lovely to see you both but we didn’t have plans tonight, I’m sure of it.”

Hermione laid her knife and fork gently on the edge of her plate and finished chewing.

“Earlier today I was reading Leftbridge’s work Persecution of Magical Folk in the Muggle World and I was reading about Obscurus and Obscurials, they’re a magical parasite that latches on to young witches and wizards who are trying to suppress their magic.”

“Why would they try to suppress their magic?” Harry asked inquisitively. 

“Back before wizard society separated from the Muggle one during the Witch Hunts and the surge of Christianity some suppressed their magic out of fear, some suppressed it because of physical or emotional abuse. There was one in America in the early 1920’s that was so powerful it managed to kill a few people. The young wizard that was overtaken by the Obscurus was beaten repeatedly by his mother for showing signs of magic. Obscurials almost always die before the age of ten, containing their magic is too hard on the body and it burns out. I started thinking about Harry…”

“And she started having a panic attack when she realized how close Harry came to becoming one himself.”

Tears had pooled in Ginny’s eyes and she nodded disjointedly. 

“But why were you thinking about me? I was never abused! The Dursley’s didn’t like me very much that’s all.” 

They had all heard this before and they usually let Harry sweep it under the rug where he liked to keep his emotions of his poor childhood. This time though Ron didn’t want him to set it aside, 

“Damn it Harry you were! No, no, no let me finish! Here’s the things I witnessed myself; your relatives didn’t value you you at all, they neglected you. Your clothes never fit until Hermione started shrinking them at school during third year, you never received birthday presents or Christmas presents from them and indeed never expected too, when Fred and George and I rescued you when we were twelve there were bars on your windows, you never had enough to eat there, I could go on!”

Harry had hung his head against Ron’s tirade and Ginny took his hand in her own and leaned into him,

“It’s true dear. Don’t deny it anymore. They might not have beat you but they made you work like a House Elf for crying out loud!” 

“I won’t argue anymore but I don’t agree with you.” Harry said quietly. 

“I’m sorry Harry but I just- I could see it so easily and it turned my heart to ice.” 

More normal conversation returned but the evening was still somewhat subdued and when Ron and Hermione returned to their own home later that evening she turned to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Ron wrapped one arm around her waist and gently cradled her head with his other hand as he kissed her hair. After a long moment Hermione pulled back and looked Ron in the face,

“Did I do the wrong thing by telling him? By bringing it all up again?” 

“No, of course not, my darling girl, we did the right thing by telling him about it. He needs to come to terms with the truth sometime, and now is as good as any. Now come on, we’ve had a stressful day. Let’s go to bed love.”

And Ron led her up the stairs to their room and softly closed the door, and if that night they slept with the bedside lights on, and clung to each other a little tighter, well then, who’s to blame them?


End file.
